Pride and Prejudice- A Pureblood Variation
by ThePotionMaster'sMistress
Summary: A Pride and Prejudice variation- revolving around Sirius's subsequent return to Pureblood society and his gradual attraction to Severus (female).
1. Chapter 1

It was a truth universally acknowledged amongst Pureblood society that a single heir in possession of a good fortune must certainly be in dire want of a wife. However little known the genuine feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering (or rejoining) of society, this 'truth' so well-fixed within the minds of the eligible ladies and their parents, that he is considered the rightful property of all them until, at last, said man is prevailed upon to make his selection.

"Amicus, love," Said Alecto to her twin early one morning, "Have you heard that Narcissa Malfoy has plans to reintroduce her cousin to society?"

Slowly sitting upright in the bed they had shared, Amicus rubbed the sleep from his grey eyes and replied rather irritably, "I had not."

"Have a look, brother." Insisted she, passing him the letter she had received from Petula Parkinson late last evening.

After _slowly_ working his way through the three-paged correspondence, her vacuous counterpart tossed the rose-colored paper to the foot of the bed and feigned boredom with the entire ordeal.

"How cruel you are, sister, to have awoken me so early for such trifling news."

As it was a flattering jealousy that made the comely man so irritable, Alecto forgave him and smothered down the urge to strike him for his insolent tone.

"Must you be so thick?" She reprimanded, punctuating her words with a long-suffering sigh. "Can you _truly_ not see why this is a matter of great importance to us?"

Though his vacant expression betrayed his cluelessness, Amicus was much too proud to admit to such puzzlement.

"Very clearly you have a great desire to tell me." He yawned. "So, go on, dear sister, for I am now awake and have no real objections to hearing your gossip."

As the desire to play narrator vastly overpowered her desire to castigate her bedmate's naivety, Alecto prattled onward without pause.

"Silly boy," Began she, "You _must_ know that I am planning to prevail upon Mr. Black to marry me."

The jealous flush that rose to color Amicus's pale cheeks was expected, but the angry outburst from the usually submissive man was not.

"You are a _cruel_ woman, indeed!" He huffed, working himself into a tizzy. "How is it that you can lie there and taunt me with such harsh words? _Me_ , your brother, who loves you above all else. Tell me, Alecto, _how_ could you even think such wicked thoughts?"

Alecto frowned at the sudden defiance but allowed it to go unchallenged, her primary focus engaged on matters of much more importance.

"If I am cruel, you are, in equal measures, brainless." She returned irritably. "That I should make Mr. Black my husband does not mean that I should make him my object worship. _That_ title, I readily profess, belongs only to you."

"But how can that be," Amicus pouted, "When you so readily admit to harboring the desire to take another man into your bed?"

"You must not be so thick." Alecto once more chided. "A marriage between Mr. Black and I would be a union only in _name_. There will be no love and affections, only duty."

"But how can that be?" Amicus wondered, frowning with confusion. "A man does take for himself a wife for _duty_ , not anymore." Satisfied with that small bit of coherence, the sleep-disheveled man prattled onward. "No," Said he, smiling smugly, " _These_ days a man takes a wife for the love of her."

"Yes, brother, the _young_ men can now afford such luxuries." Alecto agreed. "But Mr. Black, need I remind you, is a young man no longer. Unlike the youth who are now free to take their time in seeking a partner, Mr. Black has precious little time to select a wife."

"I do not follow." Amicus admitted with a blush. "Why must Mr. Black be in such desperate need of a wife."

Alecto rolled her eyes at the question but readily clued her other half in.

"It is simple, brother. If Mr. Black hopes to have children, he cannot put off matrimony much longer." She explained, slowly crawling out of bed. "Furthermore, Ambrosia Nott has informed me that Mr. Black may not even _touch_ his father's portion of the inheritance until he marries."

"But why chose you alone when there a surplus of fine, _young_ women for him to choose from. Why, the Selwyn's alone have _five_ daughters, each of them as pretty as the next and only _one_ still too young for marriage."

Wounded, Alecto turned from her armoire and lobed her hairbrush at the insensitive man.

"Am I not just as pretty as those Selwyn girls?"

Wincing as the brush made contact with his head, Amicus flung himself to the relative safety of the side of the bed furthest from his enraged twin.

"You are _far_ prettier, indeed." He hastily assured. "But even then, if its women his own age he's after, he might set his eyes on someone else. Men are fickle, Alecto, that's all I meant to say."

"You are an idiot, indeed." She snapped. "Apart from me, what other woman our age is available for him to marry?" As Amicus opened his mouth to speak she cut him off, "And don't you _dare_ say Severus Snape. That overgrown bat does not compare to me in any way."


	2. Chapter 2

"My dear sister," Lucius remarked to Severus, " _Must_ you insist on pouting."

"I cannot help but be displeased." The woman in question returned, the harsh scowl maligning her face increasing in intensity.

"You are at a ball, Severus." Lucius chided gently. "Not a funeral."

"I see little difference between the two." His pseudo-sister argued, glaring out into the crowd of dancing couples.

"But you _so_ love to dance." Lucius reminded, attempting to rouse the young woman from her self-inflected misery.

"That may be true enough." Severus acquiesced, her pale face still rather stern. "But you neglect to mention that this ball is being attended by quite a few Gryffindors. And among the most odious of these guests is Sirius Black. A beast, whom I am sure you will recall, has _always_ delighted in making me miserable."

"Oh, but we mustn't forget that you are so very quick to be displeased." Lucius teased, earning himself a low growl from the unamused witch.

"You're a great deal too apt, I find, to dislike people in general." Narcissa chimed. "You find fault in everybody, Severus, and all the world is unpleasant and disagreeable in your eyes."

"My cynical nature cannot be helped." Severus defended. "The more I see of this world, the more I am dissatisfied with it."

"You act if we were in the company of dementors." Narcissa observed, checking her lipstick with an emerald encrusted compact mirror.

"But do you mean to tell me, Narcissa, that you find the company of Gryffindors any more favorable than I do?"

"I should think _not_." The blonde woman sniffed. "But as this is event is an extremely formal one, I have tact enough to hide such disdain."

"Then it appears that I am simply more genuine in my dealings with people." Severus remarked, opting to ignore the lascivious smile Amicus Carrow sent her way.

"Severus," Lucius cautioned, "I will not have you behaving in anything _but_ a respectable fashion tonight."

"As you wish." Severus surrendered, no doubt sensing the sincerity of the warning.

Hoping that the stubborn woman would keep to her word, Lucius flagged down a rather somber-faced waiter and procured a few glasses of wine for the each of them. Ever the connoisseur of fine vintages Severus eager accepted hers and barely gave pause before swallowing a great amount.

"Mr. Malfoy."

Evidently having been made aware of their recent arrival, Sirius Black had sauntered though over to their table with a certain air of gravity. Freshly released from Azkaban, the infamous anamagi's skin had not yet recovered a healthy color or glow. And the grey eyes, though just as lively as they'd been during his youth, had an air of somberness exacerbated by the dark circles lining them.

"Mr. Black." Lucius deigned to answer, wondering for what reason the Marauder had come.

After a somewhat malicious handshake had been exchanged between the two men, rather begrudgingly on behalf of the former, the younger man turned his attentions unto his cousin.

"Narcissa." Black grinned, forgoing formality for familiarity.

"Sirius." Narcissa replied in kind, but much less aggressively than could be expected.

His ravishing wife even went so far as to allow the newly pardoned man to her cheek, a privilege said woman was more than particular in granting. Unfortunately for the Hogwarts alumni, such an action was not without consequence. Having amplified the color of her cheeks with a tasteful application of rouge, Narcissa's permissiveness had resulted in embarrassingly red lips for the last surviving male of the Black line.

Understandably, such an outcome tickled Severus to no end. Giving into her amusement, she giggled softly, making no real effort to curb her delight. Under different circumstances, Lucius might have delivered her a scolding glower. But as it was only Black on the receiving end of her impoliteness, and not anybody he held in high esteem, Lucius found such a rebuke would be as uncalled for as it would be hypnotical. Nor did he have the heart to extinguish her smile, for Lucius had not seen such a pleased expression on Severus's face in ages.

"And who is this joyful vixen?"

At the innocent (yet flirtatious) question, Severus visibly bristled and recoiled as the former convict tried to reach for her hand. Stunned by such a jarring reaction to his good manners, the Marauder stood stupidly and was slow to withdraw his hand.

"Dear cousin," Narcissa snickered, "The answer to your question is Severus Snape."

Black's friendly grin faltered at the revelation, and his grey eyes served to document his incredulity. Almost stunned, the stubble-faced aristocrat took a quick step backward, an inhuman noise escaping his lips.

"Merlin, Black!" Lucius snapped, insulted on his sister's behalf. "You act as if you've come face-to-face with a feral werewolf."

At the unsavory reference to his newly-outed friend, the spurned gentleman scowled and looked ready to attack. Anticipating the assault, be it physical or verbal, Lucius stealthily withdrew his wand and held it ready beneath the table.

"Please, allow me to explain myself." Black surrendered, uncharacteristically docile and subdued.

"By all means." Narcissa obliged, waving her hand permissively.

Having effortlessly received permission from his cousin to speak, Black refocused his attentions unto the glowering Severus. Undeterred by the overwhelmingly icy reception, the Gryffindor even went so far as to smile.

"Miss Snape," He began, "I must ask that you not interpret my earlier surprise for rudeness."

"Must you?" Severus mocked, sneering disdainfully.

"Yes." Black assured, unfalteringly.

"I'm not convinced." Severus dismissed, turning back to her wine.

Beneath the table, Narcissa surreptitiously reached across Lucius's lap to pinch the insolent woman's thigh. Jerking minutely at the unexpected attack, Severus leveled a powerful glower at the blonde woman that promised retribution.

" _Severus_." Narcissa smiled sweetly, refusing to yield. "Let the man speak."

"As if he needs _anyone's_ permission to talk." Severus muttered, low enough so that only Lucius heard.

"Thank you, Narcissa." The Anamagi acknowledged, awarding her a bright smile before turning back to his disparager.

Still determined not to acknowledge her former tormentor, Severus made a great show of rifling through her handbag. Mildly annoyed, the freed man frowned at the blatant disrespect before resuming his train of thought.

"Miss Snape." Black addressed, his hesitation palpable. "You'll be flattered to find that your overwhelming beauty simply stunned me, as I have not had the privilege of seeing you since graduation."

In response to the polite, and possibly even truthful compliment, Severus's eyes narrowed into serpentine slits.

"You've come to mock me."

Severus's allegation was uttered with unconcealed venom, the acidity behind the words chilling even Lucius to a mild degree.

"You underestimate my sincerity?" The Marauder wondered, a playful look animating his face.

"Do I?" Severus seethed, her dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"Indeed." Black calmly assured. "And I find I would be remiss as a gentleman if I did not comment, at least once, on how fetchingly your eyes sparkle beneath the light of a chandelier."

Ever the victim of horrendously low self-esteem, the genuine compliment seemed to overwhelm Severus entirely. A sensation extremely unfamiliar to the overpowered occlumens, as Severus had always prided herself on her impeccable skills of reading people and anticipating their every move.

But, much a testament to her mastery of occlumency, Severus quickly recovered and scowled murderously up into the face of her former bully. Had Lucius not known the Potion-Mistress as well as he did, he might have expected her to spit in the clueless man's face.

"I _refuse_ to be the recipient of your mockery."

With that waspish declaration, Severus hastily rose from the table and stomped away; her silver heels clacking quite loudly as she made her retreat.

"Excuse me." Lucius muttered, in a hurry to attend to his sister.


	3. Chapter 3

It is _just_ like her," Sirius vocalized to his cousin, "To be offended by flattery."

"I'm afraid that Severus might have found your flattery to be disingenuous." Narcissa defended, admirable at playing peacekeeper.

"It certainly wasn't." Sirius defended, finding himself irritated at having his motives questioned.

"But Severus is _just_ so sensitive." Narcissa excused, sending a nosy Petula Parkinson away from their table with a fierce glower.

"I'm afraid I must disagree." Sirius scoffed. "As I find her to be nothing but a thick-skinned instigator."

"You think that, Narcissa bristled, "Only because that is what she wishes you to see."

"If Severus is as sensitive as you claim," Sirius reasoned, "She would not be so very quick to antagonize people."

"Do you still equate defending oneself from bullying as antagonization?" Narcissa snapped, her face coloring brightly with irritation.

"But Narcissa," Sirius rationalized, "You _must_ agree that Severus is deliberately provoking."

"She is most certainly not." Narcissa refuted hotly. "Do you honestly expect Severus to be docile and meek in the face of harassment?"

"Bullied of not," Sirius contended, "She gave back as good as she got, and oftentimes more."

"She would not have felt the need to attack," Narcissa persisted, "If she had not so often been relentlessly provoked."

"Was I _not_ perfectly pleasant in my dealings with Severus just moments ago?" Sirius demanded, entirely exasperated with the argument at hand. "Only to have my civility snarled at?"

"But why should she expect _your_ friendliness to be genuine," Narcissa demanded, "When all she has learned to expect from you is cruelty?"

"Cruelty?" Sirius repeated, scoffing at the very thought. "Let us not exaggerate, dear cousin."

"But _is_ it an exaggeration?" Narcissa grilled, refusing to yield to her opponent.

"It certainly is." Sirius defended, greatly affronted at having had his character so greatly maligned and misinterpreted.

"You seem to willingly forget the horrific incident that Severus suffered during the end of her fifth year." Narcissa hissed. "An infamous assault that _you_ , yourself, played a key role in."

At the mention of such a disastrous, shameful occurrence, Sirius blushed deeply.

"I am not particular proud of that…lapse in judgment." Sirius admitted. "But for you to address such a thing as an assault is disingenuous at best."

"You _flung_ the poor girl into the air and _exposed_ her nakedness before a good portion of the school!" Narcissa fumed. "If such a thing is _not_ cruelty at its finest, I do not know what is."

"I had not intended for that unpleasantness to progress so far." Sirius defended weakly, still blushing heavily at the recollection.

In all honesty, the removal of Severus's bloomers had been done at the hands of James, the quidditch star having been goaded into action by the large crowd cheering him on. In the defense of himself, Sirius _had_ attempted to convince his mate to leave the girl some shred of pride. Only such a suggestion had been made for fear of the what the heightened consequences might have been, should they have been caught, and not in any way out of regard for their victim's already disgraced dignity.

A fear, Sirius reflected, that had been well founded. For as soon as Severus's nakedness had been exposed to the jeering crowd, matters spun quickly out of control. In a fit of merciless schadenfreude, the laughing spectators had happily joined in, each of them taking turns passing the much-loathed Slytherin back and forth.

It had been the absolute fervor of the crowd, at that moment, that had drawn the attentions of the otherwise clueless Professor Sprout. With impossible speeds, the herbology professor had flown over, visibly and uncharacteristically enraged. So furious was the professor, Sirius recalled, that for the very first time in Hogwart's history a mass detention had been awarded- with all fifty-seven spectators having been found to be just as guilty as the Marauders.

"That neither the first nor the last of such vile incidences." Narcissa reminded, looking upon her cousin with poorly concealed disgust.

"But after that day," Sirius defended, "We never again went so far as to violate Severus in such a personal matter."

"Oh, really?" Narcissa demanded, quite contemptuously. "How, then, do you defend James Potter sticking his hand up Severus's skirt not even a week afterward?"

Narcissa's face was perfectly genuine, but Sirius was unwilling to believe anything so vile about his best mate. For while he might have witnessed James inappropriately pinching the outcast on more than one occasion, he had never before observed his fellow Marauder participating in anything beyond that level of churlishness.

"This is the first that I am hearing of such a matter." Sirius managed, his voice weakening beneath the weight of Narcissa's severe look.

"You will find," Narcissa glowered, "That there is a _great_ deal you don't know about your dead friend."

Having thus delivered her sound, albeit harsh chastisement, Narcissa sauntered away with a victorious smirk- leaving Sirius alone to reflect on the parts of his past that made him most ashamed.


	4. Chapter 4

As loath as Severus was to admit such a thing to herself, Sirius Black was inarguably good-looking that night and a gentleman to boot; with a pleasant countenance and an easy, unaffected humor. As such, it was not very long at all before the anamagi drew the attentions of all the other revelers, what with his fine, tall physique, dashing smile, and noble mein. And even if all of those characteristics failed to attract the gaze of the sizable horde of unmarried women, the underexaggerated report of Black having reclaimed an interest-increased fortune, one rumored to be only slightly less than that of Lucius's, certainly was. Cosette Selwyn, all of nineteen, even went so far as to pull down the bodice of her skintight gown- tugging the lacy fabric so far down that Severus soon feared a rogue nipple might appear. Even the gentlemen, especially those of the Pureblood persuasion, pronounced the former pariah to be a fine example of a man. Rephaim Slynt, as flamboyant as flamingo, even went so far as to drunkenly splutter that the former Marauder was surely as handsome as Merlin himself.

Severus frowned as she watched the Gryffindor conduct himself. An expected outcome to all the attention he was receiving, the exoneree was now making it his mission to charm every last soul in the crowded ballroom. Oblivious to her disdain, the Dog carried on with his mingling unperturbed, lively and unreserved. The aristocrat even went so far as to dance every dance, never once refusing anyone who might ask. Not even Fatima Bulstrode, who enjoyed the reputation of having the grace, as well as the size, of a troll.

In short, the pampered Pureblood behaved in a manner entirely contrary to Severus's own. For she, only two hours into the lavish affair, had danced only thrice with Forsythe Avery- the fear of having her exposed toes trampled by those less graceful neccessating the implementation of such an impolite policy. Narcissa had been sending glares her way all the evening because of it, but Severus paid the looks as little mind as she would a Quidditch match.

Even more unlike her extraverted counterpart, Severus adamantly refused to be introduced to anybody new. Shunning such ordeals, which were very often as awkward as they were uncomfortable, she opted instead to occupy herself with pacing about the overheated room- pausing only seldom to participate in a conversation with someone from her familiar clique.

As Severus had been conducting herself in a less then flattering manner since the festivities started, it came as no surprise to her that the general consensus of the invitees regarded her person as unpleasant. It not long at all before she was declared proud and haughty by her fellow women, and it was even sooner still that the men declared her the most disagreeable woman in the room.

Amongst those most violently against her was Charles Montague, a man whose former childhood idolization of her had quickly dissolved and developed into disgust when Severus had refused to dance with him for the fifth time that evening. Such a slight had not been received well the _third_ time, and the final snub had seen the broom-maker absolutely fuming. But the former Gryffindor was as stubborn as he was large, and allowed only a mere fifteen minutes to elapse before he strode toward her to try his luck for a sixth time.

"Severus," Began Charles, his words uttered through clenched teeth, "I simply _must_ have you for the quadrille."

"I have already informed you that I will not have you." Severus hissed.

"Come now, Severus. You must know how impolite it is for you, the sister of the host, to stand idly about when there are guests to be danced with."

"I would think my brother would find the badgering of a woman far more impolite than a refusal to dance."

"One refusal might be excused, and two forgiven, but six is unconscionable." Charles philosophized in a condescending manner. "You had very much _better_ dance with."

The towering Gryffindor's choice of words, as well as their deliverance, served only to enrage and rile Severus further. That he should act so entitled to her attention and body was an assumption unforgivable in her eyes.

"I would sooner partner with a feral werewolf."

Although Severus managed to keep her voice firm, she soon found herself taking several quick steps away from the rapidly-reddening man. Silly or not, the broom-maker _did_ have a proclivity for reminding Severus of her father- All the more so when said 'gentleman' was enraged and beginning to raise his voice.

"Merlin, Woman!" Charles exclaimed, spittle escaping his thick lips. "I would not be _half_ so priggish as you for all of London!"

"I find I would much rather be a prig than a boar!" She growled, refusing to be cowed.

"You are an ill-made, spiteful little creature, full of envy and unearned pride."

"Well," Severus huffed, glowering up into the face of a man thrice her size, "What does it say of _your_ character that a 'creature' such as the likes of me has refused you so very many times?"

Although the rejected man's eyes flashed dangerously, Charles managed to keep the last vestiges of his composure and decorum. Lowering his voice once more to an appropriate level, and plastering a comically fraudulent smile on his chiseled face, the Gryffindor addressed Severus for a final time.

"Forgive me my eagerness, Severus. I can see now that you must be suffering from what my aunt once referred to as 'The Fourth Unforgivable Curse.' No wonder you are not thrilled at the concept of dancing."

Blushing profusely at the mention of a woman's monthly courses, and coloring all the more with the truthfulness of such an impolite statement, Severus stood stupidly and was powerless to deliver the tongue-lashing Charles deserved.

"I shall allow you some time so that you may find some comfort for this affliction." He allowed, speaking to her as if she were some errant child. "However, do be aware that I will not be so accommodating when next I ask you to partner me in a dance."

Somewhat recovered, yet blushing still, Severus turned her nose up at the man and awarded him her most foul sneer.

"Ask me a seventh time," She warned, "And I shall give you my answer through a wand."

Seeming to forget himself in his rage, Charles cleared the distance between them in two steps and seized one of her wrists. Severus flinched at the sudden assault, but refused to cry out, not wanting to give the boar such satisfaction. One hand free, and Charles otherwise occupied with spluttering incoherent snippets of insults and threats, Severus rooted about the hidden pocket of her gown for the wand that might help her escape this confrontation unscathed. But before her fingers could even brush against the desired object, much less retrieve it, Black was there- gently, yet firmly, extracting her wrist from his former house-mates grip.

"Mr. Montague," Black began, coolly formal, "You have forgotten your manners."

"You misread the scene." Charles defended, smiling smarmily. "I was merely impressing upon Severus that I really _would_ enjoy her partnership in the next dance. She has refused be six times already, and I am afraid I went too far in impressing upon her my great desire."

"A gentleman must never go so far as to pressure a lady into giving an answer more favorable to them. As men we must allow a ladies 'no' to mean 'no' and her 'yes' to mean 'yes,' or else how are they ever meant to be understood?"

"Sound advice," Charles nodded, "But you must see that my frustration is not misplaced."

"I am afraid I must disagree, Mr. Montague." Black contended. "For even if Severus had wanted to give you the next dance, she could not."  
"Oh?"

Severus and Montague gave the utterance at the same time, but hers was lost beneath the deeper voice of her harasser.

"Yes, for you see, Severus has promised the next dance to me."

"But this is ridiculous." Charles argued. "Were this the case, she ought to have informed me of such and saved me the vexation."

"Come now, Charles, we must not presume to scold the host's sister for our own misunderstandings."


	5. Chapter 5

"Well, Miss Snape," Black smirked, when Charles had at last stomped off, "Shall we?"

Having finished posing his innocent question to the still-flustered woman, he offered the frowning woman his arm. But while he had expected some hesitation, the outright refusal to grab the proffered limb puzzled him.

"Mr. Black," She drawled, "While I appreciated your earlier assistance, I cannot accept your offer of a dance."

"Why ever not?" Sirius questioned with a smile. "We _are_ at a ball, are we not?"

"I refuse your offer as it is disingenuous." Snape elaborated. "And as a matter of principal I only accept offers that are genuine in nature. And sometimes not even not then."

Sirius could not help but laugh at her bluntness, appreciative of the candor after having dealt with what seemed an eternity of empty flatteries and hollow pleasantries from the young women that had been flocking to him all evening. But true to her nature, the Slytherin took his mirth for mockery and looked prepared to either stomp off or slap him. Knowing that denial of his 'crime' would do him no good in the face of a woman so stubborn, he opted instead for the tactic of distraction.

"Miss Snape, I do believe a waltz is starting."

"I believe you are correct." She agreed, looking decidedly away from his still proffered arm.

"If you would just accept my arm, Miss Snape, I will gladly lead you unto the dance floor."

Unable to ignore the arm any longer, Snape looked up into his face with a look of exasperation.

"Have I not already told you, Mr. Black, that I do not accept disingenuous offers to dance?"

Before his stint in Azkaban, Sirius would have surely wanted to throttle the woman for being so impossibly obstinate. But the thirteen years in his isolated cell had given him time to reflect, as well as mature, and his former impatience had now been replaced with a certain maturity and ability to understand the behaviors of those who had once infuriated him.

"You wound me, Miss Snape, in assuming my offer was not at all genuine. For I never ask a woman to dance without cause."

"I dare say you have no cause to ask me to dance with you."

"On the contrary." Sirius dismissed. "You'll find that I have two reasons to ask you to partner me."

"Do not mistake my question for agreement, but what is the first?"

As Sirius had predicted, the skinny woman's curiosity rendered her incapable of walking away from an unfinished conversation.

"Perhaps I am wrong in my assumptions, Miss Snape, but I do believe Mr. Montague would find it far from amusing if he failed to spot me dancing with you."

Unable to refute such a sound point, Snape frowned petulantly.

"A fair enough observation, but what of the second reason, Mr. Black?"

"Forgive me my candor, Miss Snape, but I must give voice to my greatest desire of the evening. Which, I will admit, has been to dance with you. Not only do I wish to make my amends, for I have harassed you greatly, but so too do I wish to dance with the woman whom I know has the reputation of being one of the finest dancers."

"If I am not mistaken," The prim lady frowned, "There a great number of women in our company who are far prettier than me, as well as more amicable toward you."

"Miss Snape," Sirius grinned, "I dare say you _are_ mistaken."

In truth, Severus was not in any shape or form difficult to look upon. Having cast aside her customary shade of black, the potion-enthusiast stood before him in a finely-made gown the color of pink roses, the softer color now serving to lend a little life to her ghostly flesh. Better yet, the Occlumens had gone so far as to put up her hair, revealing to both Sirius and the world a pair of very ravishing eyes. If only the woman would smile and eat more, he mused, as the scrawny creature really was much to boney and dour for anyone's taste.

Severus made no answer to his compliment, but rather placed a delicate hand upon his arm in way of acquiescing to his request for a dance. Forgiving the silence, Sirius guided the mute through the maze of bodies crowding the dance floor until at long last he located a favorable position beneath the light of the chandelier. Behaving with surprising dignity, after having been forced by social protocol to accept a dance she had not wanted to accept, the pallid woman placed her hands upon his shoulders and allowed him the privilege of putting his hands upon her waist.

Wordlessly they began to dance, painfully formal yet graceful despite it. And while Sirius could tolerate the unyielding primness in his partner, he soon found he could not much stomach the chilly silence.

"You are remarkably light on your feet." Sirius observed, obliging his partner to speak.

"Do you make it a rule, Mr. Black, to talk while you are dancing?" She queried, only narrowly avoiding Alecto Carrow's clumsy elbow.

"I must admit that I do enjoy the occasional conversation whilst dancing." Sirius admitted, smiling softly. "One must speak a little during such an event, after all, as it would look decidedly odd for a partnership to be entirely silent for the duration of a song. Furthermore, Miss Snape, I was taught that a gentleman must always strive to provide a conversation when in the presence of those shyer than him."

"Do you imagine me to be shy, Mr. Black?"

"As you stand in such stark contrast to my own outgoing personality," Sirius lectured, "I must assume that you are, indeed, in possession of a shy nature. For I find you very reluctant to speak unless you must, and I know you to wilt beneath the light of an audience."

"What a markedly astute observation." Snape begrudgingly admitted. "And as I must not decide upon my _own_ personality, I find I am forced into accepting your statements as fact."

They were then silent again, until the musicians struck up a foxtrot without warning and roused the half-asleep crowd into a frenzy of polite excitement.

"Might I impose upon you for yet another dance, Miss Snape?"

Surveying the crowded floor with a graceful crane of her milky neck, Severus frowned as she realized there would be no easy escape.

"Very well, Mr. Black. You may have your second dance."

Not seeming as distraught as she might have at being forced into another dance with her former tormenter, the skinny Slytherin moved into position and ever so slightly relaxed her stiff posture.

"Miss Snape," Sirius remarked, guiding his partner across the floor, "I do so hope that Mr. Avery will not grow cross with me for hogging you to myself for two dances."

"You'll find that Mr. Avery has already left." She evaded. "It seems a matter of great importance has called him away."

"It must be to his sorrow, Miss Snape. For when last I saw the two of you together it looked as if you were a couple newly married."

"Mr. Avery and I are very well-acquainted with one another." Severus agreed, her cheeks coloring ever so slightly.

Saying nothing more on the subject of her good friend, Severus craned her swanlike neck to jostle an escaped whisp of hair from her face. Had Sirius been in the company of a woman he was more intimate with, he might have taken the liberty of rectifying the errant strand himself. But as it was, his current partner was a woman who could scarcely tolerate his presence- let alone his innocent flirtations.

"My, Mr. Black, you certainly have the pick of dancers tonight." Slughorn observed, waltzing past them with Primrose Parkinson in his arms.

"I have been most highly gratified indeed, my good sir." Sirius assured. "For such superior dancing is not very often seen."

Snape might have beamed at the compliment, but was so quick to hide it behind a stoic mask that Sirius began to doubt the expression had even existed. But wanting to take full advantage of her improved humor, if indeed it _had_ improved, he began their conversation anew- determined to coax her into a subject they might both discuss at length.

"Forgive me, Miss Snape, but Mr. Slughorn's interruption has made me forget what we were speaking of."

"I do not believe we were speaking much at all." Quipped the reserved woman. "In fact, I dare say that Mr. Slughorn could not have interrupted two people in the room who had any _less_ to say betwixt themselves."

"Then let us begin a new discussion."

"We have tried, rather unsuccessfully, to strike up a meaningful discussion. Let us forget such a lofty goal and concentrate, instead, on our dancing."

Not to be dissuaded from his ambition, and perhaps encouraged by the challenge his partner was presenting him, Sirius shifted the topic to that of literature.

"Books." He announced. "What think you of books?"

"Books?" Snape smirked at the very word. "Oh no, sir, we shant speak on such a subject. For I am _certain_ that we have never read the same, or at the very least never with the same feelings."

Sirius frowned at the assumptions, but maintained his composure all the while.

"Miss Snape, I am sorry to find that you think so lowly of me as to believe I am ill-read. However, if that is truly the case, then I believe we shall much discussion on the subject of differing opinions. Let us compare them."

"No, Mr. Black." She refused, her step faltering minutely. "I cannot talk of literature as I dance. My mind is full of other things."

"How unpleasant, Miss Snape, that your thoughts should interrupt you from the enjoyment of your hobbies."

"Indeed." The curmudgeon agreed.

Sirius was about to suggest that a little mindless conversation might serve to sooth her overstimulated mind when he noticed her pallid face flush bright red. Concerned, he slowed his steps and held his breath, relaxing only slightly as the foreign color left the Slytherin's face.

"Miss Snape, are you quite alright?"

"Yes, Mr. Black, I am perfectly well."

The well-delivered lie might have easily been believed had it not been for her face flushing violently once more. But rather than pressure his companion for a more satisfactory answer, Sirius steered her away from beneath the chandelier, figuring that the heat it exuded must be the culprit. Once assured of her regained comfort, after a full two minutes had elapsed without her face coloring, Sirius gave voice to an observation he had made only moments ago.

"I recall you having once said, to my dear friend Mr. Lupin, that you hardly ever forgive, and that your resentment, once earned, was unappeasable. Yet, her you are with _me_ , and I dare say I thought I caught a hint of a smile on your face not too long ago."

"I am a very cautious person, I suppose." She allowed, opting not to comment on his accusation of her smiling.

"But do you not worry that your hastily formed prejudices might blind you?" Sirius dared to ask, pleased to have at last cultivated a conversation with more substance.

"Merlin, Mr. Black, must you ask me such insipid questions?"

"I should like to get a better read of your character, that is all."

"And what, Mr. Black, is your account of me at the present?"

"I cannot decipher it at all." Sirius admitted. "For I hear so very many accounts of you, each differing greatly, that I fear I am greatly puzzled."

"I can readily believe," Answered she gravely, "That the reports of me _do_ vary greatly. But I do wish, Mr. Black, that you would not be so eager to sketch my character, as there is reason to fear that the result would discredit me in your eyes even more than our past has."

"But if I do not discover who you are as a person, I fear I shall never be presented with another opportunity."

Before she could offer up a clever retort, one that was sure to be sarcastic in nature, she stumbled, her suddenly pinched face flashing alternating through an extensive cycle of color- at one moment a robust red and the next a sickly white. Before Sirius could even react, much less steer her away from the crowd, she fainted straight away. Had it not been for his reflexes, diminished though they had been in Azkaban, the debutant would have smashed her delicate head on the flooring.


	6. Chapter 6

It seemed to Severus that she was not very long recovered from her illness when Narcissa came to her with a summons to attend a tea she was throwing that very afternoon. As she had been given a clean bill of health from the Malfoy Healer, and had even commented to her brother that morning that she felt entirely whole, Severus had found no means in which she might refuse the offer and was thus subsequently seated within the gardens with Ambrosia Nott, Petula Parkinson, and Alecto Carrow.

"I was quite surprised, I will admit, to find that Mr. Black was so well behaved." Ambrosia confessed.

"I will not pretend that I do not share your view." Severus admitted, still unwilling to believe the Gryffindor redeemed.

"Oh, but Severus, he was truly everything a gentleman ought to be." The short woman insisted. "Not only was he sensible and good-humored, he was lively as well. And oh! I have _never_ before seen such happy manners in a man!"

"And he was so very handsome." Alecto crooned with a ravenous smile.

"Which a person ought to be- _if_ they can help it." Petula contributed, casting a Severus a derisive look.

Ignoring the thinly-veiled insult, Severus turned her focus unto the rosebuds that were only just beginning to decorate the shrubbery which ensconced them.

"Severus," Distracted Ambrosia, "You must surely have been flattered by the way in which Mr. Black kept you to himself for so very many dances."

"It was a compliment I had not expected." Severus agreed, unwilling to aggravate Narcissa by arguing it was no real compliment.

"But you must have expected to receive such special attentions from _someone_." Alecto accused, too mild to be ignorant. "You did, after all, take such great care to look ravishing."

Had she not such strong control of her emotions, Severus might have blushed as thoughts of Forsythe Avery dashed across the forefront of her mind.

"You are very kind to say so." Severus replied, carefully neutral.

"Yes, I suppose that is the difference between us." Alecto sniffed. "Compliments seem to always take _you_ by surprise, but never me. _I_ am a woman who knows how to be flattered."

"I am modest only because I am certain that Mr. Black's compliment was not reserved only for me. Twice I saw him dance with Othello Selwyn, and _thrice_ with her sister Juliet."

"Such nonsense!" Ambrosia refuted, her smile warm. "It was only natural that Mr. Black should chose _you_ so often for his partner. Why, I wager he could not help but notice you were far prettier than any other woman in the room."

"You are much too quick with your flattery, Ambrosia." Severus scolded softly, entirely uncomfortable as to what direction the conversation was being steered.

"I never did like to see a fault in anybody, not if it could be helped."

"Then I must commend you on such a mastery of tact. For I would never be able to censure myself in such a fashion. I fear I must always say what I think."

"I know that of you, Severus. And it is precisely _that_ which gives me cause for wonder. What with _your_ good sense, to be so honestly blind to the virtues and attributes of others! I cannot begin to understand it. A certain degree of candor is well enough, after all, one must meet with it often enough in life. _But_ , to be candid without discretion? That is no good."

It was a well-founded argument, without flaw, and Severus found no way in which she might defend herself from such a lecture. That did not mean, however, she would not make the attempt.

"I would not so hasty to determine Mr. Black a gentleman. One evening alone is hardly sufficient enough to paint his picture accurately."

As much as the masses might protest as to the man's innocence and virtue, Severus knew in her heart that Mr. Black's behavior at the ball had only been calculated to please the horde and render his return to society easier. With her quickness of observation and a harsher degree of judgement than the ladies surrounding her, she had found very little to approve of when I came to Mr. Black. For she knew he was no fine gentleman, and only humorous at the expense of others. While he was admittedly handsome, and in possession of a fortune only slightly less than her brothers, she knew enough to assume that the man would be in the habit of spending than he ought to, with little regards to keeping his accounts in the clear. Furthermore, she had it on good authority that Mr. Black could touch only his _mother's_ holding, and would be resigned to such a fate until at last he was prevailed upon to marry.


	7. Chapter 7

"Narcissa," Remarked Lucius to his wife late one evening, "Might I impress upon you to discuss a matter of great delicacy to my sister?"

"If you cannot rely upon your wife for such a task, who can you?" Narcissa smiled, rolling over in their bed to smile up into his face.

"You must not let it be known that I was the one to send you. Rather you must make Severus think you came to her on your own accord." Lucius began, blushing with discomfort.

"Well, dear husband, now I am utterly intrigued. You must tell me at once what you would have said to your sister."

"Very well," Lucius began, clearing his throat, "You must impress upon Severus the importance of not being so guarded. If she is to secure Forsythe for a husband, as I believe she intends, she must not be so expressionless. There is, after all, a great deal of vanity to be had when it comes to attachment and love. There are very few men, indeed, who can fall in love without encouragement. As such, Severus must show a great deal more affection than she has been. Forsythe enjoys the company of my sister, certainly, but such feelings will not last if she cannot be prevailed upon to encourage his affections."

"That was quite a sermon, Lucius." Narcissa remarked. "But as to the topic of your sister, the poor girl expresses as much as her nature will allow- you must know that by now."

"You must help her refine her nature than." Lucius declared. "For Forsythe does not know her nature as we do, and will come to think of as disinterested."

"But why must she do all the work?" Narcissa interrogated. "If a woman is partial to a man, and makes no effort to conceal it, then _he_ must needs find it out."

"And perhaps he might, if he sees enough of her. But, though Forsythe and Severus meet often enough, it is never for more than a few hours; and, as they always see each other in large parties, it is impossible that every moment they should converse. Severus, therefore, should make the most of every moment she with the man and has the opportunity to command his attentions. Only then, when she is secure of him, can she return to her stoicism.

"Your words are certainly pretty enough," Replied Narcissa, "Where nothing is in question but the desire of being married and subsequently made a mother. But this is where both you and your sister delude yourselves. She does not fancy Forsythe as much as she, or you, might hope but desires instead a man who will _adore_ her as you adore me. But she cannot receive such affections from Forsythe, nor could any woman. As such, it is cruel for you to encourage her delusions. She must focus, instead, on man who can give her the adoration she seeks as well as the baby she craves." Narcissa paused only for a yawn before finishing. "She must focus her attentions upon my cousin, instead."

Lucius looked in equal measure both insulted and outraged at the suggestion.

"She has known the new version of this man for less than a month. How can you ever prevail upon her to make her see him as a potential suitor, much less one more favorable than the one she currently fancies?"

"I do not entertain the foolish notion that such a coupling will happen overnight. But given some time, a few more months at the most, they might be prevailed upon to discover the suitability of a union themselves."

"This is Severus we are speaking of. In a few months your cousin might only discover her favorite book or, if he is lucky, her favorite color."

"While you spurn my designs, you must know that I have only Severus's wellbeing in my heart. If it were not so, I would not wish for her to be married to my cousin. But if you persist in your own delusions, I can be prevailed upon to see her married to Forsythe."


	8. Chapter 8

once more seated in his cousin's informal drawing room, Sirius found his attentions inexplicably focused upon the unsuspecting Severus. He found he could not help but stare, for while at first he had allowed the woman to be pretty enough, and had even begun too look upon her with admiration at the ball, he had found within the space of a few weeks that he could now only view her as nothing but ravishing. No sooner had such thoughts assailed him, then he began to find her face was rendered uncommonly intelligent by the beautiful expression of her dark eyes and the manipulations of perfectly groomed eyebrows. Atop that discovery came others much more mortifying. For while he had detected in her, at first, a lack of womanly curves and fat, he had since then been forced to acknowledge to himself that her figure was light and pleasing all the same; and in spite of his once assuming her manners were not all they ought to have been, he was charmed nonetheless by their mocking and playful nature.

To all this, he was sure, Severus was absolutely ignorant. For to her, it seemed the only man worth paying any regards to was Forsythe Avery, and rather decidedly _not_ the man who had so often made her cry in school.

"What can your cousin mean, Narcissa," Severus began, having caught his gaze, "By listening in on our conversation? Could it be that he wishes to know the price of French lace and pearls?"

"I believe that is a question which only Sirius can answer." Narcissa replied neutrally, beckoning said man nearer to the sofa.

"Well," Sniffed Severus with smirk, "Perhaps I do now _wish_ to have his answer made known to me. For he has a very satirical eye when it comes to my person, and I fear I must need return his criticism with impertinence if his answer is disagreeable."

Before Sirius could so much as seat himself upon the sofa directly in front of them, much less defend his thoughts, Alecto called to the object of his admiration from across the room from where she stood with Petula Parkinson.

"Did you not think, Severus, that I expressed myself uncommonly well this morning, when I suggested to Sirius that he make good on his promise to throw a ball at Black Manor?"

"You were energetic in your persuasions, yes, but such is _always_ the way of a lady." Severus acknowledged, very displeased at having her witticisms interrupted.

"Oh! You are so very severe upon our sex!" Alecto pouted, looking to Sirius for sympathy.

At once, Severus opened her mouth to retort, no doubt eager to deliver a clever remark that was more thinly-veiled insult than anything else. But, alas, she was thwarted at the last moment, depriving Sirius of the joy he might have received from one of the potion mistress's famous barbs.

"Fret not, Alecto. For soon it will be _her_ turn to be teased." Ambrosia declared, rising from the piano bench. "For I am going to free my seat to Severus, and compel her to play."

Severus blushed heatedly at the entrapment and, had Narcissa not been seated so near her, Sirius was sure she might have fled to the room.

"Some friend you are, indeed!" Severus cried, stomping to the bench. "Forever wanting me to play and sing as if I were your plaything. Why, if my vanity had taken a musical turn, you might have been invaluable as a friend. _But_ , at it is, I would really rather not sit down before those who have been in the habit of hearing only the best of performers."

"Do not refuse us, sister!" Lucius cajoled, turning from his chat with Amicus. "I find I have grown ever so fond of your voice over the years."

"Very well," She surrendered, seating herself primly upon the bench, "If it must be so, it must."

Her playing proved to be pleasing, though by no means capital. It was her voice, Sirius soon discovered, that was the glory that graced the ears of all those lucky enough to have been invited to the Malfoy Manor. The quality and sound of it was such, that Sirius even began to entertain the notion of questioning Lucius if his sister, might in fact, have a touch of siren blood in her lineage.

Alas, the enjoyment ended far too soon, when only after only three songs Severus claimed her throat day and surrendered the instrument to a very eager Alecto. It was all Sirius could do not to cringe as the Carrow Twin hammered at the keys, for she had neither talent nor taste; and though her voice was pretty enough, it was often at times flat and off reedy. Mercifully, at the end of a long concerto, Ambrosia stealthily reclaimed the instrument to herself, and in doing so, compelled a few of those in attendance to dance.

"What a charming amusement dancing is, for young people such as yourself." Slughorn observed, idling over to him with a plate full of tarts in his meaty hand. "There is nothing quite like dancing after all. Why, I consider it as one of the finest refinements in a polished society."

"Any savage can dance." Sirius teased, looking in distaste upon the stomping Amicus.

"Perhaps. But you cannot deny that your cousin performs delightfully." Slughorn continued, after a large bite of a lemon tart. "As such, I cannot doubt that you are adept at the art yourself."

"You have seen be dance, professor." Sirius reminded.

"I have, indeed! And I received no inconsiderable pleasure from the sight. Do you often visit with your cousin for such affairs?"

"I have, of late, taken to visiting her daily." Sirius admitted. "I hope only to return the favor very soon when Black Manor is inhabitable."

He prayed the oversized man might quit him them, but at the last moment Severus sauntered by with an empty teacup and drew his attentions.

. "My dear girl, what you not dancing? Sirius you _must_ ask her to be your partner. You cannot, I am sure, refuse such a request when such a beauty is before you."

Without awaiting reply, Slughorn seized her free hand and made to give it to Sirius who, though extremely surprised, was not unwilling to receive it. But at the last moment, she drew back, and with a frown remarked to her former Head of House:

"Sir, I have not the least intention of dancing. I entreat you not to assume I moved this way in order to beg your help for securing a partner."

"But have drawn near all the less." Sirius replied gravely. "Why not make use of this action and share a dance with me?"

"I assure you, Mr. Black, that to move a few steps was no great effort on my part."

"Come now, Severus!" Cried Slughorn, aghast at her manners. "It is cruel of you to deny Mr. Black the happiness of a dance with you. How can you have such strong objections, when all he asks of you is a few moments time?"

"You are all assumptions, Mr. Slughorn." Severus protested. "How can you speak for our Mr. Black?"

"I speak for him as I would speak for any man." Slughorn sniffed. "And that is as someone old enough to know that no man could object to you as a partner. Why, we have even heard such from the man himself."

"I cannot dance this afternoon." Severus stated, changing tactics. "I find I turned my ankle strolling the gardens before breakfast."

Before he lies could be discovered, much less refuted, Severus turned swiftly on the ankles she claimed to be sore and found her way safely to a card table where sat Ambrosia Nott and Marcella Selwyn.

Sirius was admiring the nature of her cheekiness, only partly offended, when came to him Lucius was a brandy in each hand. Depositing one into his cousin-in-law's hand, the blonde Slytherin sized him up with a derisive air.

"I can guess the subject of your reverie." The man accused, grey eyes flickering to his sister.

"I should think not." Sirius defended, taking a hearty swig of his drink.

"You," Lucius began accusatorily, "are considering how insupportable it would be to pass many evenings in the manner- in such society. The insipidity, the airs, the noise, the protocols and social dictates- why, you can scarcely tolerate it, can you?"

"Your conjecture is totally wrong, I assure you. My mind was far more agreeably engaged. I have been meditating on the very great pleasure which a pair of fine eyes in the face of a pretty woman can bestow."

Following the line of his sight, Lucius Malfoy very quickly determined the object of his affections. It was an angry flush that he confronted him on the matter.

"My sister, Severus. Is that it?" He demanded. "I am all astonishment. Pray tell, how long has she been such a favorite of yours?"

"That is exactly the question which I might have expected. A brother's imagination is very rapid, after all. If jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment. But it is not always such the case. Can a man not admire a fun work of art without wishing to purchase it?"


	9. Chapter 9

Sirius entered the Malfoy dining room precisely at five as he had been directed, and promptly found himself in the company of those who most frequented such an exclusive manor. Before he could even seat himself beside Lucius, as he had been assigned, the inquiries about his health and business poured in and he could scarcely answer one before another was asked of him. It was only by Narcissa's clever intercessions that he was able to take a bite of the food provided, and even then he was hard pressed to chew fast enough before his attention was being demanded of one of the guests.

Such an unpleasant sensation only increased over the course of the dinner when, at the start of dessert, Narcissa and Lucius were called away by a maid to take an urgent fire call from their only son.

"Ambrosia," Instigated Alecto, "Why did Severus not join us? I do hope she has not fallen ill again."

Sirius perked up at the question, hoping himself to have answers from the mild-mannered woman who seemed so intimate with his cousin.

"I am afraid Severus is at her brewing and refused to be interrupted."

"I might have expected." Pipped Petula. "She really has nothing, in short, to recommend her, but being an excellent worker."

"Indeed!" Alecto agreed, nursing her fourth glass of wine. "Why, I shall _never_ forget her appearance this morning when she tramped in from the gardens. She looked half-wild!"

"To say the least! I could hardly keep from laughing, after all." Petula fussed. "Very nonsensical of her to dine at table like that, it was, with her hair all tangled and her face so filthy!"

So surprised at the boldness of this conversation, and the cowardice of how it occurred, Sirius could scare formulate a defense to the beleaguered woman.

"Oh, and her skirts; I do hope you noticed that Petula, six inches deep in mud and the lace all stained beyond saving!"

"Your picture may be very exact, Ladies," Replied Ambrosia, "But this was all lost upon _me_. Why, I had thought Severus looked remarkably well when she joined us for breakfast. Her dress quite escaped my notice."

The bitter duo frowned at the attempt of censure and turned to Sirius for relief."

" _You_ observed it, Sirius, I am sure." Alecto sniffed. "And I am inclined to think that you would not wish to have _your_ godson make such an exhibition at table."

"I suppose I wouldn't." Agreed Sirius, to the latter part.

"For her to walk five miles of the garden every day, no matter how muddy, and quite alone! What could she ever mean by it?" Alecto demanded, affronted beyond reason at the behavior of another.

"It shows to _me_ an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most indifferent attitude to decorum."

"I find her love of nature very endearing." Sirius spoke, having finally been able to concoct a defense that contained to profanities.

Seeing she could find no common-ground via insults, Alecto changed tactics in a manner most obvious.

"You must forgive me my harshness, Mr. Black. For I _do_ have an excessive regard for Severus. She really is such an intriguing woman, and I wish with all my heart she were well settled. But with her blood the way it is…why, I afraid there is little chance of it."

"I have heard she stands to inherit quite a fortune upon her third-cousin's death."

"Yes, but matrimony is a condition of that." Petula informed.

"Even _without_ an inheritance, I do think she could find herself suitably matched."

They were at that moment stopped from the continuation of their tirade when the Malfoy's, now accompanied by Severus, returned.

"Is all well with Draco?" Ambrosia fussed.

"Yes, yes," Narcissa assured, "He had need of some money is all."

Reassured, and supper now cleared away by orders of Narcissa, the group dispersed into the drawing room where Amicus suggested they might all play at cards. To all this, they readily agreed, save for Severus who seemed rather miffed at having been pulled away from her brewing for an affair so tedium. With a glower that was more akin to a pout, she removed a small book from the pocket of her gown and seated herself far away from the brother who had wronged her.

"Severus," Claimed Alecto, "Despises cards. She is a great reader, but has no pleasure in anything else."

"I deserve no such censure," Snapped Severus, "For while I _am_ a great reader, I do have pleasure in many things."

Properly cowed, at least for the moment, Alecto turned back to Sirius.

"Has Harry grown much since the spring?" The Carrow twin asked. "When last I saw him at the Quidditch match, he was as tall as you."

"I believe he has." Sirius agreed.

"How I long to be properly introduced to the young man!" Alecto sang. "I have never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such manners, has your godson. And he is so very accomplished for his age! His performance on the broom is exquisite, Draco tells me."

"I do believe any wizard is apt to be sufficient at broom riding." Amicus observed. "It is when a lady is proficient that shock is due."

Narcissa tutted at such a sexist remark and exchanged a look of derision with Ambrosia, the formers much more severe.

"I do not believe the accomplishments of ladies need warrant surprise, Amicus. There are many an accomplished woman these days." Sirius conjectured.

"Yes, yes," Amicus mocked, "It _is_ rather difficult to be introduced to a lady without being first informed she is accomplished."

"Brother, your censer is quite accurate." Alecto said, quite surprised. "For the word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by assembling a dress of concocting a face cream."

"You must comprehend a great deal in your ideals of an accomplished woman." Jeered Severus.

"But of course, I do." Alecto huffed. " _No one_ can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman absolutely _must_ have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word: and besides all that, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions or this word will be but half-deserved."

"All this she must possess," Agreed Amicus, "And to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading."

"Given this," Smirked Severus, "You must not know _any_ accomplished woman."

Alecto looked as if she wanted to slap the brewer, but wisely constrained herself.

"Are you so severe upon your own sex?" Ambrosia frowned.

"I did not deny the existence of such a woman." Severus insisted. "On the scarcity of the presence of one in this room.

At once, the Carrows and Petula began to cry out their grievances at such a statement, and they continually protested until, exhausted, Lucius called them into order by suggested they resume their activities. It was not long after this that Severus quit the room, claiming to have left a potion simmering in her lab.

"Severus," Whispered Alecto in his ear, "Is one those ladies who seek to recommend themselves to the other sex by undervaluing their own; and with many men, I dare say, it succeeds. But, in my opinion, it is a paltry device, a very mean art, indeed."

"There is a meanness in _all_ the arts which ladies sometimes condescend to employ for captivation." Sirius returned, hurrying away.


End file.
